


golden galore

by Lertsek



Series: it's only living endless here [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a little pining for the soul, i guess?, san wearing red nail polish is the highlight of this one, two guys and a beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lertsek/pseuds/Lertsek
Summary: He's glad San suggested it, both the beach and to take off his shoes. The water is still gleaming, even in the late afternoon sun that keeps on slipping further and further away. The sand feels good against his feet, better than it had against his boots, way better.or:Wooyoung and San make a detour to visit the beach and stay for as long as it takes them to get the sexual tension out of their system (or at least they try to).
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: it's only living endless here [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817563
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	golden galore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetpeche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/gifts).



"It's better when you take your shoes off, believe me." 

Wooyoung is sure San can feel his scrutinizing gaze, staring him down from where he has both his combat boots firmly planted in the sand. He watches from not even a foot away as San struggles to balance on one leg while pulling his shoe off and then his sock. When San moves on to his left foot and threatens to fall a second time, Wooyoung sweeps in and lends an arm for balance. 

Wooyoung hesitates when San crouches down to tuck his socks into his shoes. He looks back at the sea like he will find his answer there, and then—as if it did whisper the right choice into his ear—he steps onto the stone platform and hastily starts undoing the laces of his shoes. 

The pebbles sprinkled out in variations of grey feel weird against the soles of his feet at first, but not unpleasant. He wiggles his toes, glad to be out of their confines. Next to him, San jumps into the sand, and after stuffing his own black socks into the front of his shoes, Wooyoung follows his lead. 

It's something San does often, lead. He isn't particularly good at it, too kind to force his will, would rather waste time and ensure comfort than march ahead without knowing if Wooyoung is fine with what he picked. It makes him a bad leader, but an awfully good friend. 

And besides, there are moments when Wooyoung does not have the energy to speak, moments during which San will make the decision for him, picking what he thinks is best for Wooyoung and once again disregarding himself. It's something they have fought over, especially during the early stages of their friendship, before they accepted both sides of the coin and started becoming unafraid to flip it. 

This entire trip had been Wooyoung's idea, something he had thought up in the middle of the night and couldn't let go of. This little detour on their way back home though, that was entirely San's. Ever spontaneous San, suggesting while Ed Kowalczyk’s voice bled into Lauv's that they should get off the highway and drive to the beach. Wooyoung hadn't even questioned it, hadn't asked why, just agreed and watched as San switched lanes and followed the smell of the sea. 

He's glad San suggested it, both the beach and to take off his shoes. The water is still gleaming, even in the late afternoon sun that keeps on slipping further and further away. The sand feels good against his feet, better than it had against his boots, way better. 

It feels good as he runs over it, chasing San and his laughter, running past him straight to where the water licks the sand. It's cold, but not as cold as he expected. He only starts to roll the legs of his trousers up when the water has already started doing its damage. Fatal mistake. Not one Wooyoung cares about. 

He waddles a couple of paces back, trying to get the fabric to settle under his knee while simultaneously trying to not drop his shoes, but to no avail, the water chases him, and this time it really soaks one of the legs of his pants. He can't be bothered to be upset by it, just gives in and halfheartedly rolls the wet fabric as far up as it will go. He can already feel it starting to slip back down, Wooyoung lets it. 

When he looks back up San is there. Kind eyes, amused face, grin breaking out over his face. "You'll get the hang of it," San says, making it a point to wiggle his still dry leg in the air as an example, pant leg neatly tucked and in place, the only danger here the red nail polish on his toenails. It matches the color on his fingernails, which matches the red streaks in his hair. 

Wooyoung is the creator of the streaks, a fun little experiment San had undergone to show his solidarity to Wooyoung bleaching his hair. What Wooyoung hadn't expected was for them to turn out decent, or for San to look so fucking good with red thrown into his hair in no particular thought out pattern. San would probably still look good with orange hair, or green, or any color that will soon become reality because San has found his new passion and best friend: hair dye. He has even made a Pinterest account for it, sorting potential future colors into separate folders. 

When Wooyoung can forget the bleach smell that seemed to clog his nostrils for days after he did his own hair, he can almost admire San's enthusiasm. 

There's a soft gush of wind and then a hand grips his own, squeezes it. "You here?" 

"Yeah." Wooyoung squeezes back. He decides to settle on the truth. "Just thinking about how unfairly hot you look with red streaks in your hair." 

San might be used to his bluntness, but this time the statement makes him blush, adding another red to match along with the others. It doesn't last long, but Wooyoung basks in how pretty San looks when he's flustered. 

"I'd say you look handsome with blonde hair, but I actually preferred the black." 

Wooyoung's eyes widen, his mouth drops open, and the next second those perfectly rolled up pants of San are wet and getting wetter as Wooyoung keeps kicking water in his direction. 

Even when San starts begging for mercy, Wooyoung doesn't stop, just lets his laughter float freely and enjoys San's smile. He aims a little higher for San's shirt, no particular reason at all as to why there, none at all. 

San pounces on him when his shirt starts getting soaked. Wooyoung knows it's a losing battle. He can't overthrow San with his stupid dorito shaped body that he spends four evenings a week working his ass off for. He has seen San's biceps grow, seen the muscles form over time. Wooyoung and his twigs for arms don't stand a chance. 

"Wait!" Wooyoung cries. "Wait wait wait San!" Wooyoung wasn't born yesterday, he knows where this is going. 

San stops mid lift, eyebrow raised, that cat-like grin crawling over his face again. "You can't talk yourself out of this one, Woo." 

"Not even if I pout?" 

San promptly closes his eyes. "I am immune to your pout." 

San's wet shirt is pressing against Wooyoung's own. The water can still kiss the points of his toes as San holds him up. Wooyoung drops his forehead against San's in defeat. "Can I throw my phone out of my pocket first." 

The smile he gets in return is wide and evil. "Be sure to throw it far enough." 

Wooyoung obeys, his fate is already sealed, has been since the first day he saw Choi San throw his head back in laughter and dimples appeared. _Dimples._ Wooyoung was a goner. 

He throws his phone to the left of where he aimed his and San's shoes. 

"Yours?" he asks. 

San nods back to the boulevard that's long closed. "Still plugged into the aux cord in the car." His mind seems to light up and he urges Wooyoung to hang on tighter as he shifts all the weight to one arm. Wooyoung can hear the telltale sound of keys. He sighs. They'll be hell to find. 

"I'll drive the rest of the way home," Wooyoung bargains. 

"Winning the golden cup in mario kart does not equal a driver's license, Woo." 

"But Sannie it was 200cc and the competition was set to hard." 

"And you cheated," San states, switching to holding Wooyoung bridal style, wading further away from the shore until he stands waist-deep in the water, the bottom of his shirt floating in a circle around him.

"I wouldn't say unplugging your controller automatically means cheating," Wooyoung tries in a last-ditch effort. San just looks at him, fully at ease. Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "Fine. Just throw me." 

"As you wish," San says, doing exactly that before he even finishes that sentence. 

For a second, Wooyoung flies, and then he crashes down into the water that certainly feels colder now that his entire body is engulfed by it. Stupid San and his stupid spontaneity. _I think we should get off the highway and see the beach._ Wooyoung thinks he should resurface and strangle the living hell out of San. 

Which he does, kind of. He gets as far as wrapping his arms around San's neck in an awkward hug and tries to use his momentum to get San to go down with him. They stumble in the sand. Wooyoung curses the slight height advantage San has. He throws out a half-hearted flooring attempt he learned from the three months he spent in judo classes. His teacher would be appalled. 

"Would it help your ego if I pretended to fall?" 

"Does the cockiness run in the family or is it your own trait?" 

San laughs, "You've met my grandparents, you decide." 

Wooyoung does not think it wise to speak. San laughs harder. There those dimples are again, peaking through as San's smile stays on his face. 

It's stupid, Wooyoung knows it's stupid, but over time he has become less careful to not act on his impulses. He's pretty sure that's because San has been rubbing off on him over the years. 

So, because Wooyoung apparently does not value his life, he leans up, toes digging into the sand as he tries to reach higher, and presses his lips to the left dimple on San’s cheek. When he pulls back it's gone. There is panic at the back of his mind making its way to the very forefront like a raging warrior. Another impulse reaction bubbles up in him. Wooyoung does not squash this one down either. 

He hikes his right leg around one of San's and floors him. This time it works. Wooyoung is not above yelling out in victory and he would, if there was not a hand clamped around his wrist that's pulling him along.

The victorious shout turns into one of terror and for the second time that day, he goes under. Wooyoung lets the water wash over him, he opens his eyes and sees San's blurry form draw closer to him, feels an arm circle around his waist and hold him close. He gets his feet back under him and pushes up, San coming back up for air alongside him. 

San's shirt sticks to his upper body and his hair is plastered to his forehead, the streaks bleeding an even darker red. Wooyoung is about to open his mouth and suggest something stupid, but San beats him to the act. He takes the edges of his shirt and works to pull it over his head, messing his hair up even further. Wooyoung has to stifle a laugh but his arms are already moving on their own, his hands ready to sculpt the hair back down. 

San crumbles the shirt into a ball and tosses it as far as it will go. Which isn't very far. It travels maybe two feet before it plunges back into the water. Wooyoung can't hold back his laughter this time. 

San pouts, and Wooyoung has an impulse again. It would be so easy to move a little closer, tilt his head up just slightly, and kiss that pout away. His legs stay planted still as stone in the sand. 

That is until he screeches accordingly when San lifts him up again. He clasps his legs around San’s waist and holds on like it’s life or death. Although at this point Wooyoung doesn’t know which case is which, the only thing he knows is that Choi San is the cause of both. 

The keys prove in fact annoying to find, almost as annoying as putting his still wet feet back into his shoes when they have to make their way over the boulevard and back to the car. 

When they do reach the car, San gets behind the steering wheel barefoot and all. Wooyoung follows his lead and kicks off his shoes again, throwing them into the backseat, his socks on top of them and finishes it off with his shirt because there is no way in hell he is spending the next two hours with a shirt stuck to his back like a wet tissue. 

San’s eyes roam to do a double-take but Wooyoung ignores it in favor of grabbing San's phone and unlocking it with his fingerprint so he can select a playlist. 

All in all, it feels like a victory, even if he has to spend the drive home still partly soaked to the bone. It helps that San isn't scared to place his hand on Wooyoung's thigh while he sings along with the lyrics to a Robyn song, red polish on his nails brave and possessive. It certainly helps that a dimple appears again when Wooyoung links their fingers. A dimple that doesn't fade the entire ride home. 

**Author's Note:**

> maybe if you look close you can spot three friends swimming in this water as well (here's a little pick me up sent from across the ocean :))
> 
> thanks for reading
> 
> [ twitter](http://twitter.com/dreaminahero)  
> [if you want to yell through anon or drop a prompt to get my mind vibing ](https://curiouscat.me/lertsek)


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